


Falling Words

by jonghhho



Category: ATEEZ (Band)
Genre: Angels, Angst, Blood Drinking, Death, Fallen Angels, Fluff, Kind of creepy, Light Angst, M/M, Nostalgia, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Past Relationship(s), Vampires, i'm sorry idk what this is, this might be a mess i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-06
Updated: 2019-11-13
Packaged: 2021-01-24 11:47:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21337720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jonghhho/pseuds/jonghhho
Summary: drabbles stemming from randomly choosing words and emotions for nanowrimo! will be writing various ships and scenarios. check notes for ships and word prompts for each day as well as warnings if any! happy nanowrimo!
Relationships: Choi San/Jung Wooyoung, Jeong Yunho/Song Mingi, Kim Hongjoong/Park Seonghwa
Kudos: 31





	1. 11.6 | day 1 | wooyoung/san

**Author's Note:**

>   
i'm doing a prompt thing for nanowrimo! this might actually be a mess. let's hope i can actually do this T.T  
i'll be adding tags as i go and one of the days i'll do two rabbles since i started kind of late.  
this'll de part 1 and i'll post another work for the second part!  
come yell at me on twitter [jonghhho](https://twitter.com/jonghhho)!  


**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day 1** | San loves mornings the most.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
**11.6 | day 1** {actually day 6)  
**word:** feathers  
**emotion:** at peace  
**ship:** wooyoung/san  
no warnings
> 
> come yell at my on twitter [jonghhho](https://www.twitter.com/jonghhho)!

The morning sun filtering through the open window bathes the room in golden light. As the sun rises from the horizon, he almost feels like his old self. There’s no more golden ichor running through his veins, but he’ll never forget the beauty of the Heavens. The gleam of the golden garden and the scent of hibiscus and apples floating through the dewy air. 

He catches the gleaming of the single golden feather out of the corner of his eyes and turns to see the boy that gave him his heart and his soul. 

“It’s early. I don’t have to be up for another three hours,” Wooyoung grumbles, burying his face in his hands and rolling around on the covers. San smiles and slips into bed once again. 

“Sorry, love. I didn’t mean to wake you.” He plants a kiss at the crown of the other boy’s head. 

Wooyoung had the sight. San remembers the first time he met the boy when he was just a little kid. His wings had just started growing in long enough to finally hold his weight and he was testing his endurance when suddenly he was falling through the air and crashing right into the other boy’s sand castle. 

The boy had cried out, looking on in confusion and utter shock as San rose from the destroyed sandcastle and shook his wings out. But as he checked himself over for any injuries, he noticed the other boy looking at him with furrowed brows. 

“Are you an angel?” the boy asked. San froze. Humans weren’t supposed to be able to see them, but he’d heard from his mother about those who had the heavenly sight. Most of the time it was in kids and older folk, but San had never believed it to be true. 

Out of pure panic and fear san shouted, “Yes! Have a blessed day!” 

He rose up to the sky and forced himself to fly back home, not stopping once out of sheer terror that he’d done something terrible, but he was only halfway scolded for his carelessness. 

He’d followed the boy named Wooyoung after that, acting as a guardian of sorts against mean adults, bullies, and the occasional physical incident. 

Then one day, fifteen years later, as San sat in a tree and waited for the other boy to be finished with his lecture, he heard a voice call to him from below. 

“You’re the same angel that crushed my sand castle!” 

That was the first time San fell out of a tree.

Humans believe that fallen angels become demons, but the truth is, fallen angels just become humans. Some do succumb more to their innate evil human nature more than others, but it doesn’t necessarily translate to becoming a demon. 

So after months of denying the growing feelings San had for Wooyoung and an almost death experience, Wooyoung had given San everything. 

Sometimes, when angels fall they fall endlessly down from the Heavens until they land. They fall into no one’s arms and into a cold place where they have to start anew as a human. But sometimes, when angels fall, they’re given a soul to bond with. They fall quietly and painlessly, and if done correctly, they fall helplessly in love with their bonded human. 

San is lucky to have been bonded to Wooyoung because sometimes it may not seem like it but Wooyoung loves San just as much as he loves the other. 

“I’m gonna sleep some more. Don’t disrupt my beauty sleep again, Choi San.” Wooyoung laments as he melts back into the covers and into sleep. 

San watches as Wooyoung’s eyes drift off and smiles when he feels the boy’s fingers aimlessly searching for his own. The golden feather, the symbol of San’s soul bond with Wooyoung still glints in the peaceful morning sunlight, and mornings are San’s favorite time of day because he gets to watch his boyfriend sleep.


	2. 11.7 | day 2 | hongjoong/seonghwa

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day 2** | Hongjoong visits the university library and his memories.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
**11.7 | day 2**  
**word:** library  
**emotion:** nostalgia  
**ship:** hongjoong/seonghwa  
no warnings
> 
> come yell at me on twitter [jonghhho](https://twitter.com/jonghhho)!

It’s been three years since Hongjoong has stepped foot in the university library. Everything feels different, yet he can recognize the smell of worn books and coffee immediately. The students at the front desk barely spare him a glance as he quietly walks through the half stacks of the first floor. 

His feet carry him up two flights of stairs to the third floor, as if remembering the pattern he took after classes every day three years ago. 

Nothing much has changed on the third floor. There are a few pieces of furniture that he doesn’t recognize but as he roams through the stacks of British literature and paleontology, memories creep up on him. 

He stops at the desk situated between two bookcases at the east end of the library. The slightly wobbly table and six chairs situated around it don’t seemed to have changed one bit. He runs a hand over the surface and his fingertips catch against a rough carving against one edge of the table. The letters are so small that untrained eyes might ghost over them.

화.중.윤.민.영.산.상.호

Eight characters carved into the edge of the table claimed it for Hongjoong and his friends. They would always gather around this table, sometimes filled with junk food or pizza, or most likely laptops and papers spread about. 

San would be stressing over his Japanese exam while Yeosang would be scribbling into the edges of his handouts and Mingi and Wooyoung would basically just yell at each other. Hongjoong would be immersed in whatever song he was working on and after a while, he would feel fingers winding through his own. He would look up into the eyes of his boyfriend, a softness spreading over his features as he pointed at Hongjoong’s cold piece of pizza or coffee. Hongjoong would laugh and push the headphones off his head as he pulled the boy in for a quick peck. 

He hadn’t been very good at taking care of himself in university. If his boyfriend hadn’t been by his side at almost all times, he’d probably have starved himself. 

He turns from the table and wanders a little more. The cluster of computers in the west corner of the library have disappeared, but Hongjoong has fond memories of all eight of them playing tournament style games in that corner during lulls in their coursework. 

He passes by an armchair at the end of the biology stacks and a smile spreads over his lips. He remembers Mingi being asleep in that chair almost every other day. His eyes would be covered by a sleeve of his jacket and his mouth was always wide open. A few times, Hongjoong had found Mingi and Yunho squished into the chair together, sound asleep with their feet propped up against a second armchair they’d pushed up together and hands intertwined. 

He walks by the far corner of the library, still shrouded in darkness, and promptly blushes at the memories of some inappropriate things he’d done with his boyfriend in that very darkness. 

He’s standing just outside of the library, at the top of the steps, watching the rain coming down in sheets across the campus. Spring was always more wet than dry. 

He just stands there for a while, watching the raindrops falling against the pavement, against umbrellas, and soaking through hair and clothes. A figure steps up beside him, shaking out and umbrella and then turning to him. 

When Hongjoong looks up, he’s surprised to see a familiar face.

“You never bring an umbrella, still?” 

Hongjoon doesn’t know what to say, so he doesn’t say anything. He looks up at the soft eyes of his college boyfriend, whom he hasn’t seen in two and a half years. The boy’s hair is now a stark blond and he’s got a smile on his lips that Hongjoong wasn’t sure he’d ever get to see again. 

“Hi,” the other boy starts again and this time Hongjoong remembers his voice. 

“Hey, Seonghwa.” 

Seonghwa nods his head toward the umbrella in his hand and smiles a little wider. “Wanna grab some coffee?”


	3. 11.8 | day 3 | yeosang

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day 3** | yeosang is the most feared man.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>   
**11.8 | day 3**  
**word:** poison  
**emotion:** proud  
**ship:** none | yeosang-centric  
**warnings:** blood, death
> 
> it's only 12:05 okay. i tried. this was a hard one and i don't know what i wrote, but....enjoy ig?  
come yell at me on twitter [jonghhho](https://twitter.com/jonghhho)!

Yeosang is charming. He’s full of shy smiles and soft giggles and a sort of enchantment borne from the depths of his large hazelnut eyes and deep, soothing voice. The stark white blonde of his hair is always a point of wonder for those who meet him for the first time and an obsession for the regulars. 

The high tilt of his cupid’s bow is almost as endearing as the mournful sigh he lets out when he finishes a pile of sweets that one of his admirers has left and the people who know about him can’t seem to get enough. He’s charming in that way, playful and flirtatious and before they know it, they’re falling. 

In the beginning, Yeosang feeds them the shy, innocent, and childlike manners. He flirts only in giggles and cheeky comments and they always fall for it. When he manages to get them alone though, he switches gears ever so slightly. 

He invites them to sit by him, to laugh with him about juvenile matters, until one touch lingers a little too long. He turns his eyes up and casts hooded gazes at his admirers. He makes sure to lean in a little too close and whisper a little too low. 

And by the time they expect something more, he dives.

Each person is always more willing than the one before. More and more drunk off of the haziness of the incense in his room and more dazed by the darkness of Yeosang’s eyes. He makes sure they’re comfortable and languid and perhaps lost in thoughts of lust-driven madness that he, of course, never reciprocates. 

When his fangs slide down over his canines, they always stare at him a little confused; eyes dull and uncomprehending. And as he whispers soothing words to the bodies underneath him, to the prey he’s lured, they close their eyes and accept their fate. 

Blood always tastes so much sweeter when it’s given willingly, and as the poison of his venom spreads rapidly through his victims, the utter want and the need to have the venom pulsing through their bodies turns the thick liquid sweeter. 

It never lasts as long as he wants, though. The prey are always weak and their bodies can’t catch up to the hunger that settles in Yeosang’s stomach. Only a few drags has them limply falling and just mere minutes in, their hearts have already stopped. 

He burns the bodies quickly as not to draw suspicions, but when enough people have started to disappear, he flees to the next town. Always feeding and preying on those that weren’t scared of what he might be. 

And when a ripple of fear strikes through the small country that he’s been living in for just two years, he can’t help but feel a little bubble of pride blooming through his chest. The papers start calling it serial, but Yeosang knows that’s not what he is. 

He’s just a hunter and they’re merely his prey.


	4. 11.9 | day 4 | yunho/mingi

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **day 4 |** yunho is numb.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **11.9 | day 4**  
**word:** big city  
**emotion:** numb  
**ship:** yunho/mingi  
no warnings
> 
> this one is a real mess. my writing has been off lately so we'll see how this turns out.  
i'm also like 5 days late so i'm gonna try to post like 5 of these today!  
come yell at my on twitter [jonghhho!](http://www.twitter.com/jonghhho)

The November air is chilled and Yunho can feel the numbness already creeping through his fingers. It's only been ten minutes since he walked out the door and he already regrets it. The screaming match had been ridiculous but at the time it seemed valid. 

Lately, it’s all they ever do. They scream at each other and cry until one of them can’t stand to look at the other anymore. This time it had been Yunho. He’d walked out with just his jacket. He doesn’t even remember where his phone is. 

The sky starts to turn deep shades of blue and he should probably be making his way back. Four months into living in the city, in a small but cozy apartment, with the love of his life and Yunho is starting to wonder if he’s made the right decisions. 

Moving in seemed to be the natural next step in their relationship. They were twenty-six and had enough money to put down a deposit for a small apartment and were so in love. They celebrated the move with family first and then with friends and then just the two of them. Even laying in the empty room (their bed was scheduled to deliver in two days) tangled in a mess of blankets and limbs on the floor they felt at home with each other.

Yunho backtracks his steps. He stops at the front door and something feels off. He’s not sure what it is that’s churning in his stomach but the numbness in his fingers won’t go away. Punching in the code, he lets himself be known. 

The entryway is dark and the lights are turned off in the kitchen and living room. An odd feeling passes over him. He sees his phone laying on the coffee table and goes to retrieve it and then stops just outside the doorway of their shared room.

The door is halfway open and he can see the other boy sitting on the floor, cradling his head on his arms and knees. Yunho quietly slips through the door and settles himself down on the floor. 

Mingi turns to him, sadness in his eyes. He reaches out and takes his hand and Yunho can still feel the numb chill that seems to have settled in his knuckles permanently. The other boy doesn’t say anything. He reaches forward and runs his hands through Yunho’s hair and caresses down his cheek.

They move together and Yunho’s cold lips feel so nice against Mingi’s warm ones. He feels their fingers tangling together and apart and they haven’t even had a chance to kiss like this in a few days. And Yunho loves him, loves Mingi so much. 

When they break apart, some of the coldness in his bones has dissipated. Mingi looks at him tenderly and Yunho just loves the boy before him so, so much. 

“I’m sorry,” he manages to say, hand cupping Mingi’s nape and moving down his arm. He laces their fingers together again and the other boy seems to relax a little. The tenderness in his eyes don’t leave. 

“Me too.”

It’s rare that they can come back from a fight so easily. Yunho is always afraid. He’s afraid of having said too much or being too loud. He’s afraid of leaving and never returning or never leaving but losing too much. He’s afraid of apologizing and is afraid of too much affection, but most of all, he’s afraid of losing Mingi. Of losing the love of his life to some stupid fight. 

They get up together and move to the bed together. They lay together and breathe together and come down together. 

Living in a big city means it’s never too quiet. They lay listening to the sounds of cars and people on the street. They can hear the too loud TV of their neighbors and the banging around of construction going on a block down. And they can hear their heartbeats, speeding up and slowing down to try to catch up to each other and beat as one. 

The numbness in Yunho’s limbs in long gone and a mellow warmth settles in its absence. He watches Mingi trace patterns on his chest as he cards his fingers through the other’s hair. He thinks to all the fighting they’ve done in the past few months. He thinks about all that was said and wasn’t said and thinks about all the hurt that came out of it. 

And he thinks about them now, in this moment, enjoying each other’s warmth and presence and giving themselves up to one another. And he thinks that they’ll be okay.


End file.
